


Swollen

by ADeedWithoutaName



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bloating, Blood, Blood Kink, Blood Play, F/M, Humiliation, M/M, Previous Relationship, Rough Sex, Stuffing, belly play, vampire kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-02 03:34:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14535741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADeedWithoutaName/pseuds/ADeedWithoutaName
Summary: There are around five and a half liters of blood in the human body. As a result, after draining a demon, Sam is always a little...incapacitated.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to my editor, sweetyaoi!

Sam had known, from the very start, that Ruby teaching him how to use his powers wasn't going to be easy. He was going to be ripping demons out of their vessels and killing them with his mind - nothing about that sounded like it would be a walk in the park. He'd told himself to take whatever she gave him and use it to get stronger, because killing Lilith was the one thing he had to focus on right now.

He never would've expected this, though.

"I'm not gonna do that," he said bluntly, eyes fixed on the demon trussed up in the middle of the room. "I  _can't_ do that. Like, physically. I can't."

"You're underestimating yourself," Ruby told him. "You seem to have a problem with that. You can't kill a demon without my knife. You can't do this. You can't live without your brother."

It felt like every muscle in Sam's body tightened at the mention of Dean. He knew, by now, that she only brought him up to needle him, to try and goad him into doing what she wanted. But he still couldn't stop it from working, or himself from reacting.

"I mean I can't hold - d'you know how much blood's in a human body?" Sam demanded as he turned to look at Ruby, standing next to him with her arms folded over her chest. "Even if it wasn't blood, I wouldn't be able to drink that much. A person's stomach doesn't stretch like that."

"All right," Ruby agreed, stepping in front of Sam and putting her hands on his hips. They were more prominent than usual, harder for his jeans to stay on top of even with the help of a belt. He hadn't been taking very good care of himself in the weeks since he'd buried Dean. "That might be true. But...strictly speaking, you're not really a person, are you?" She raised her eyebrows.

Sam could see the demon that Ruby'd caught and tied up for him over her head, staring at the two of them. He was gagged for the moment, so he couldn't say anything, but Sam was sure he could see amusement in the black eyes, at how much what Ruby had just said bothered him.

"Shut up," he said quietly, wanting to push her off him but not moving to do it.

"Well, you're not a hundred percent human," Ruby pointed out with a shrug. "That's the only reason you're gonna be able to take out Lilith, so own it." She stepped closer to him, squeezing his hips. "Your body's been craving this since you were six months old and you got your first taste. You'll be able to hold all of it just fine, and trust me, you'll love every sip." She studied his face, gaze hard and defiant. "You  _have_ to do this, Sam. Unless you want to just pull a few wisps of smoke out of Lilith and make her laugh before she kills you."

Sam swallowed, knowing she was talking about his last, humiliating practice session. When she'd had to put the demon down for him, and told him she knew of a way to help him stop sucking at what he was supposed to be able to do easily.

"I'm not comfortable with this," he said, even more quietly this time. Ruby laughed so loud in response that he almost flinched, the sound forced and mocking.

"Oh, I'm sorry - you're not  _comfortable_?" she asked, her hands falling off of him as she took a step backwards. "That's too bad. I guess we should get you back to your safe space as fast as possible, and Lilith can send the entire world down the same way Dean went."

Ruby held onto the knife most of the time. Sam was pretty sure it was so he couldn't stab her at moments like this.

"What ever happened to knowing what it was like to lose someone?" he asked her, before turning away from her and heading for the door. "I'm not doing this, Ruby. I need to get outta here - and he'd better be gone when I get back." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the bound demon.

Ruby teleported into his path and put both hands on his chest to stop him. He still didn't know how he felt about her touching him all the time. He was at least sure that he hated himself for craving the contact when it wasn't happening.

"Okay," she said, dark brown eyes just a little sheepish. "I'm sorry. For real this time - I shouldn't've just brought you in here and told you to suck this guy dry. I get why you're overwhelmed." She slowly lowered her hands, apparently banking on him not trying to leave again. "But you really do need this. You're running on empty, you haven't had a refill in over twenty-five years. Topping up your tank's the only way you're gonna be able to do this for real without giving yourself an aneurysm." She looked up at him. "How 'bout we take it slow? Just a mouthful or two. Just a  _glass_ ; you don't even have to drink it straight from the tap."

Sam huffed out a loud breath, dragging a hand back through his hair. It was clean, no split ends. That, at least, was an improvement over before Ruby'd found him. He was showering regularly again.

"I know you want this." Ruby took his free hand in both of her own. "Killing Lilith. It's the only thing you want, isn't it?" She made eye contact. "Dean would want you to do this."

"I'm getting really sick of hearing you say his name." Sam shook his hand free of Ruby's, which were always cold. Her vessel was technically dead.

Of course Dean wouldn't want him to do this. He hadn't been gone nearly long enough for Sam not to know that innately. Drinking blood? Trying to boost his psychic powers? Just using them at all, when he'd only gotten them from Azazel bleeding into his mouth and he had no idea what drawing on them all the time would eventually do to him? Dean would be against every aspect of that. He'd especially hate that Sam was hoping to die either while fighting Lilith or as soon as she was gone.

Dean wasn't here, though. Only Sam...and Ruby. He couldn't ever forget that gaping absence, no matter how deeply he slept, or how drunk he got, or how hard he threw himself into harnessing his powers. And he'd already been told that there was no getting him back.

"Just try it," Ruby urged. "Just a little bit. Then tell me how you feel, afterwards...aren't you craving a drink after I made you lay off the booze?"

"Fine." Sam gave up on leaving. He walked over to the room's dingy kitchenette, opening a cabinet and grabbing a cracked plastic glass. It didn't look too clean, but given what Sam would be drinking out of it, did it really matter? "One glass. One mouthful." He still wasn't convinced that he wouldn't throw up as soon as he tasted it.

"Thank you." Ruby grabbed the glass as Sam went to sit down at the table near where the other demon was tied up. He watched her approach him. He was in a chair, bound to it with rope, a tarp spread out underneath him. It had to be there to keep blood off the carpet, but Sam didn't get why Ruby had even bothered, given the state it was in.

The demon's vessel was a big, brawny guy. So big that he might even have more blood than the average person - and that Sam wondered how Ruby'd even caught him in the first place. He grunted and glared as Ruby pulled a knife out of her belt (not her demon-killing one, just a normal hunting knife) and pressed it to his throat. She dragged the point across the skin, making a small cut, then held the lip of the glass under it as it began to dribble blood. When the glass was around three-quarters full, she pulled a rag out of her pocket and pressed it to the cut. She straightened and looked at Sam, holding the glass out to him.

"Come and get it, Sam," she said. "I don't wanna spill any, just in case you want more."

"Doubt I will, but...sure." Sam stood, took the glass from her, sat back down. He stared at it. He could feel how warm it was, even through the plastic - so that demon's vessel, at least, was alive. It was thick, dark red, syrupy. He took a deep breath, already feeling nauseous, but it wasn't like he had anything to lose. Maybe his lunch, but he hadn't eaten it. He raised the glass to his lips. "Down the hatch."

The smell hit him first. Metallic, which he was used to when it came to blood, and sulfurous, which was new. He squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to open his mouth. And when it hit his tongue, it...wasn't anywhere near as bad as he'd thought it would be. It tasted like blood mixed with rotten eggs, but somehow, that didn't make him want to vomit. In fact, as he swallowed that first sip, he realized it actually tasted good. Really good. And he was so, so thirsty, all of a sudden. His throat burned, his chest, his stomach, and he knew the blood even now flooding into his mouth was the only way to put that fire out.

Sam bolted the glass. He could tell when the blood hit his stomach because energy exploded through him. It was like he'd been sleep-deprived his entire life and had just gotten his first taste of caffeine. He felt light, his head full in a good way, and he was sure he could kill a demon with his mind right now. Flip a table. Bring the motel down around them brick by brick.

And he was angry. Furious. He wanted Lilith dead so badly. She was partially responsible for what'd happened to his brother, and he had no problem with blaming the whole thing on her. He imagined ripping her apart with his bare hands, then putting her back together so he could kill her again. It thrilled him to the point where he was surprised he didn't get hard.

Sam slammed the glass back down onto the table once it was empty, breathing hard. His mouth was wet, sticky, and he reflexively licked at his lips, the flavor making him shudder. Even though all the lights in the room were off and not much was coming in through the windows, the whole place seemed brighter. His pupils were probably blown.

"See?" Ruby's hand came down on his shoulder, stroking affectionately. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"I need more," Sam replied, his voice coming out husky. He couldn't believe he'd been so reluctant to do this. It was clearly what he'd needed all along, from the very beginning. Since Dean had died. Noticing the blood that still coated the inside of the glass, Sam lifted it to his mouth to lick it off. Ruby took it away from him with a laugh.

"You don't have to do that," she said. "There's plenty more where that came from, remember?" She waved her free hand at the demon in the chair.

Sam watched impatiently, hands resting white-knuckled on his knees, as Ruby re-opened the cut on his throat (which'd started to clot) and refilled the glass. Sam drained that one even faster than the first. Ruby got him a third glass, then a fourth, and after that one, he decided that not drinking from the source was just too slow.

He felt full as Ruby put a hand between his shoulder blades, guiding him up and over to the demon. Bloated like he would've if he'd just chugged four glasses of water or beer or literally any other liquid in quick succession. His stomach pressed uncomfortably against the waistband of his jeans and his belt, the blood sloshing inside of him with every step he took. He was far from satisfied, though. It almost felt like that first sip had opened a swimming-pool-sized hole in him, one that would take tens of thousands of gallons to fill. That was why he dropped willingly onto the demon's lap, facing him, straddling his thighs. Sam grabbed a handful of his hair and forced his head to the side so he could lap hungrily at the blood running down his neck, pooling between the muscles and tendons. When he came up for air, he noticed, for the first time, how much the vessel looked like Dean. He had freckles, at least. And dark blonde hair, although it was longer than Sam could remember Dean ever letting his get.

It took an insane amount of willpower to talk instead of just pressing his lips to the weeping cut, but Sam managed to quietly ask, "Won't this kill the vessel?"

"Yes," Ruby said, putting a hand on Sam's head. She started stroking his hair. "But it'll kill the demon, too. Because you're literally absorbing his power by doing this. So you'll be able to exorcise other demons - totally destroy them, even - without hurting their vessels at all." She bent down to whisper directly in his ear, breath cool. "Isn't it worth it? To kill one person so you can save god-only-knows how many?"

It was a new twist on an age-old morality question. Things like that usually gave Sam pause. Right now, though, the answer seemed perfectly clear. He put his mouth over the cut Ruby had made. The demon had already been looking woozy when Sam'd sat down, having lost close to a liter of blood so far, but a full-body shiver rolled through him as Sam began to suck.

He drank in deep, powerful pulls. The blood was rich and hot and salty as it gushed down his throat, and he could feel the heartbeat of the demon's vessel in his mouth, against his tongue. There was another beat, too, deeper, at odds with the human pulse like it was a twisted version of it, somehow just  _wrong_. Sam realized that it was coming from the demon itself, and that both rhythms were weakening with every swallow he took.

That excited him. That he was killing a demon just by drinking. And a person, but the demon was what mattered.

Sam could feel his stomach inflating steadily, like a balloon attached to a faucet that'd been turned on high. For the first time in months, his belt, as tight as it would go without him punching a new hole in it, dug into him. Hard. Sam let go of the demon's head (he stayed where he was, probably too weak to move) and kept drinking as he unfastened his buckle. He had to reach under the rounded shelf of his belly to get to it. As soon as his belt was loose, all the pain he'd been feeling disappeared - and his distended stomach surged forward so far that he had to unbutton and unzip his jeans, too. He spread his legs to make room for it and heard Ruby laugh softly above him.

"Good boy, Sam," she whispered, still stroking his hair. Petting him, almost. "That's it. Suck him dry - you need every last drop."

Sam obeyed, mostly because he'd already been planning on what she'd told him to do. The curve of his belly was so pronounced now that it brushed against the torso of the demon he was drinking from with every mouthful, wobbling in time with his swallows. After a couple more seconds, it rested fully against the demon, stretching the fabric of Sam's T-shirt. His hands had wound up flattened against it, and it gurgled underneath his palms. To him, the sensation had a greedy feel to it. His body demanding more. As much as he could possibly hold...which was turning out to be a lot.

His cock was rising, a usually-impressive bulge in his boxers that was unavoidably dwarfed by the growing bloat above it. He assumed it was because of the way Ruby was touching him, or how powerful both the blood itself and the whole situation was making him feel. But it could also be because filling himself far beyond what he would've expected his capacity to be with demon blood felt good. Like drinking water after spending all day out in the heat without it; like digging into a huge burger after being so hungry he was on the verge of passing out for hours. Except even better. Ruby'd been right: he'd been craving this for twenty-six years without even realizing it. He moaned against the demon's neck.

He didn't know when the flow of blood started to taper off. When he noticed it, though, panic stabbed deep into his chest. He tried sucking harder, but all that seemed to do was make it thin out faster. Soon, he was tonguing desperately at the slit Ruby had opened with her knife, silently begging for just a few more drops. He wasn't full, he wasn't done, and it didn't even occur to him how incredible it was that he'd drunk an entire human body's worth of blood through a cut shorter than his thumb.

Sam finally had to admit to himself that there wasn't anything left. He rocked back, gasping and panting, and as he opened his eyes, he realized he hadn't breathed the whole time he'd been drinking. He hadn't needed to.

"I need more," he told Ruby, twisting his head to look up at her. His voice came out so rough he hardly recognized it.

"That's quite a turnaround, from not even wanting to take a sip," Ruby commented. Her hand was still on his head, and now she cupped the back of it tenderly. "I'm impressed. But I'm afraid that I'm gonna have to cut you off."

"Why?" It was good his voice sounded the way it did right now, because it was the only thing that kept him from coming across as a spoiled kid.

"Well, first of all, because he's empty..." Ruby pointed to the demon - the corpse, now - whose lap Sam was still sitting on with her free hand. His head was listing to the side where Sam had put it, skin nearly white and eyes dull and no longer black. They were almost green, and seeing that triggered a muffled pang of emotion deep inside of Sam. "...and I don't feel like going out to get you another one right now. Especially with all the grief I went through to grab him." She looked down, past Sam's face, and widened her eyes slightly. "Plus, you look like you're about ready to pop."

Sam followed her gaze down to his stomach. This was the first time he'd looked at it since he'd started drinking. He'd been touching it plenty, of course, but seeing was very different from feeling. Just how big he was shocked him.

It looked like he was pregnant. Heavily - eight or nine months. He analyzed that thought for a second, but it wasn't an exaggeration. He could only see the bottom half of his thighs, even having spread his legs, and he could feel his belly pressing into them. Heavy, warm, pliable. He swallowed, and his mouth tasted like blood. That prompted him to lick his lips again, absentmindedly getting the last of it.

He'd never been this full before. He wouldn't've thought it was physically possible, just like he'd told Ruby before they'd started. As far down as he could see, his shirt was stretched taut. He reached down and rolled it up, slowly. Every touch had him jiggling like a waterbed, and it felt like the ripples inside him rolled straight down to his dick. Once it was free of his shirt, his stomach grew again. Not much; just enough for him to see as the front pressed itself flat against the body of the demon.

"Oh," Sam said.

"Yeah," Ruby agreed.

"I..." Looking up at her again, he shifted himself slightly. God, was he ever heavy. Which made sense, seeing as there was probably something like fifteen extra pounds in his fluid-filled gut right now. The movement forced a burp, one that came out too fast for him to try and stifle. "I'm so..."

"So what?" Ruby asked when he trailed off. "So full? So big? Definitely." She leaned down and put a hand on the swell of his middle. She gave it a little shake, and it wobbled back and forth, making Sam gasp. It felt weird. "God, Sam, just  _look_ at you! This is a huge step for you. I'm so proud. This - " She patted his stomach. " - is what's gonna let you kill Lilith."

Sam really hoped that he wasn't going to have to be in this state to take her down. He wasn't even sure how well he could walk right now. Maybe he should test that out. He tried to stand up, grunting with the effort, and Ruby moved both her hands to the belt loops of his jeans, using those to haul him to his feet. His belly adjusted itself as he moved, contents sloshing heavily, and he'd been right: walking was hard. He wasn't sure he needed Ruby's help, exactly, but she gave it to him anyway, one hand on the small of his back and the other on the side of his belly.

"Gotta get rid of the body," Sam mumbled, glancing at it as Ruby guided him over to the bed. He couldn't make himself care about it nearly as much as he knew he should. It was an effort to even say something.

"I'll do it," Ruby said. "I brought him here in the first place. All you've gotta do is sit down..." She let him hold onto her for balance as he turned and lowered himself onto the mattress, which creaked loudly under him. "And tell me how you feel."

All the anger and the craving and the sense of power had begun to fade as soon as he stopped drinking. It was still there, but muted, masked by a growing feeling of being sated. Warm, full, sort of sleepy. And horny, of course. All sorts of good things he hadn't really felt since losing Dean. He told the truth. "G-good."

"Oh, why the stutter?" Feigning concern, Ruby put a hand on either side of Sam's face, studying his eyes. "Sam. There's no reason to be ashamed about what you're feeling. There's nobody here to judge you." She reached down under his stomach and found his cock, running a fingernails up the length of it through the fabric of his boxers. The nail was long, well-shaped. Her vessel hadn't exactly been in perfect cosmetic shape when she'd moved in, having come from a coma ward, and she'd done a lot to spruce it up. He knew that all of it - the manicure, the waxing, the perfume - had been for his benefit alone. He did appreciate it. "There's only me. And I'm impressed."

She put both hands on his chest all of a sudden and pushed him down onto the bed, gently but firmly. He groaned as everything he'd drunk rolled and slapped at the walls of his stomach, a copper-tasting ocean inside of him. All the sloshing made him burp again.

"What're you doing?" Sam wheezed out. "The body - "

"I know," Ruby said. "I'll take care of it, like I said. Don't worry." She went back to his groin, hooking a fingernail under the waistband of his boxer briefs and tugging them slowly down. "I'd rather take care of your body first, though. That's more important." Sam's cock laid against the underside of his belly once it was freed, and his balls tumbled into Ruby's cool palm. Her touch lit up the billions of nerves in that area. "And more fun."

Sam would've asked if they were really gonna have sex with a dead body in the room, but this wouldn't be the first time they'd done it. He tried to reach down and grab Ruby's hand, but couldn't quite get to it. He had to go around his stomach, which was totally unfamiliar for him, and it was just impossible while he was lying down with his feet on the floor.

"Just be gentle, okay?" he asked her, staring up at the ceiling with his hand resting on the side of his belly, where it'd been when he'd given up on reaching Ruby.

"I'll try my best," she promised. She let go of him, and he heard her unbuttoning and unzipping her jeans. "Just so long as you don't call me by your brother's name again."

Sam closed his eyes and bit the inside of his lower lip. Listening to Ruby taking off everything below her waist, he pulled himself a little further up the bed, so that his hips were fully supported by the mattress. Even that tiny a movement took a massive effort and left his biceps burning, because of the new, temporary extra weight at his middle.

He wondered how many calories were in blood. It wasn't like it mattered, though.

Ruby climbed onto the bed and straddled him, on her knees. The springs protested. He opened his eyes to see her above him, smiling slightly, dark hair framing her face. Her eyes had gone black. They seemed to do that whenever she was excited. He had no idea why and didn't care enough to ask - it would've been a turn-off if drinking an entire demon hadn't engorged his cock as much as his stomach.

"Do you want to fuck me, Sam?" she asked softly. She undid the button up that she was wearing and shrugged out of it. Sam could see her hardened nipples through the thin fabric of the T-shirt she had on underneath; she wasn't wearing a bra.

"Yes." What did he have to lose by being honest?

"That's too bad, because I don't think you're in much of a condition to do that right now." Ruby pulled her shirt off over her head, arching her back and touching his swollen belly with her own, much-flatter one. Her breasts hung heavy and firm, cream topped with dark nipples, as she put a hand on the peak of his stomach and rolled her wrist to make it shake a little. "Do you want me to fuck you?"

 _"Yes."_  Sam moved his hand from his own belly to her thigh, just above the knee. The skin was silky and cool and the muscles tightened at the contact.

She touched his shaft with the fingertips of one hand, guiding him inside her even as she lowered herself onto him. She was slick, almost dripping wet, and her inner walls were so plump with arousal that they felt stiff around him. She was tight, twitching. And warm, from whatever processes all that black smoke kicked off to keep her vessel from rotting, but not as searingly hot as every other person Sam'd ever had sex with was inside.

Sam panted, eyes falling closed again, and Ruby gasped softly as she bottomed out. As much as she could, anyway. There was still some of Sam left outside her, even beyond what her lips wrapped around like a sheath, but his head was pressed up against something hard and round high up inside her. Neither of them could go any further.

"You're huge," Ruby whispered. Her hand was still on his middle, cupping his navel, and with the way she was touching him, he wasn't sure she was talking about his erection.

"Am I?" Sam asked, voice rough and breathless with sex.

"You're only gonna get bigger. Stronger." Sam ran both hands up and down Ruby's thighs, gripping her, as she started moving her hips. Just rocking, tiny, slow movements. "Soon you'll be able to kill demons just by blinking, and you won't even have to pull them out of their vessels to do it."

Ruby seemed to get off, somehow, on fantasizing out loud about Sam's powers growing during sex. It definitely wasn't his preferred flavor of dirty talk, so he usually tuned her out and focused on the physical sensations alone. He did that now. As she picked up the pace, her pussy clenched and released around him in time with her movements. She was still touching his stomach, stroking and pushing gently, and it felt incredible. Like her hand was on his dick, or even one of his nipples. He'd never felt sexual pleasure outside of those areas, so this was new. Exciting.

Ruby was bouncing in earnest now, tiny cries slipping out of her, a lather of sweat starting to come up on her skin. She was jostling his belly, but not enough to hurt; her current vessel had always been about half his size, and she seemed even smaller right now.

Sam had been trying not to make any noise, but he very quickly reached a point where he just couldn't stop himself from moaning. And that was pretty much all he could do: moan, and squeeze Ruby's thighs, and lay there. He was usually aggressive when they had sex, more aggressive than he'd ever been with anyone else. He held Ruby down on the bed or the floor or the table and drove himself into her with his full strength. He pulled muscles in his back and legs sometimes. She was doing all the work right now, because he literally couldn't move. Being basically used as a sex toy was new for him, too. And it was also kind of exciting.

He told himself he wasn't betraying Dean by enjoying this.

Ruby's movements slowly changed, along with the sounds she was making. Her cries got louder and deeper, more primal, as she ground her clit against the bone at the base of his cock. That, at least, felt pretty hot, hard as the weight of her entire body brought it down on him again and again. His balls were slick with the wetness dripping out of her fluttering folds, and it matted his pubic hair, which she'd insisted he keep at least partway under control when they'd first started sleeping together. Her hips bucked against his distended stomach, and more than a gallon of blood splashed inside him. He belched, which was probably the least-sexy thing he'd ever done during sex. Ruby didn't seem to mind, though.

She put both hands on him to steady herself as her motion got wilder. On his belly, one on either side. And she squeezed. Sam grunted under a sudden flood of agony blurred with ecstasy, feeling like he was about to burst. And not in a good way.

"Cut it - stop," he gasped, reaching up and grabbing her wrists to try and pry her hands off him. He wasn't very successful. She might've been tiny, but she was a demon, and he was no match for her in his current state. "You're gonna make me barf."

Ruby laughed. Giggled, really, and punctuated it with an especially powerful snap of her hips. She twitched around him, throbbed against him, and drenched him with a new spurt of moisture.

"You won't throw any of this up," she assured him. "You can't. Your body's been waiting decades for this - it won't give it up so easily." She leaned over him, panting wetly. He knew she didn't physically need to; it was for effect. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders, swaying, the ends tickling his skin. Her breasts swung as she focused more on rutting against him than bouncing on his dick. She took a hand off his belly to squeeze one of them, pinching the nipple so hard it looked like it hurt. That relieved some of the pressure. "You'll be able to drink as much as you want, soon. I won't cut you off anymore. Three demons at once, four - a dozen." She threw her head back and pressed down hard on him with one hand as she gyrated, making his gut bulge out on either side, the skin shiny with pressure. "You'll probably be able to clear Hell out singlehandedly after that." She dug her fingernails in. Sam just barely whimpered. "But first you can use your belly as a bed."

She almost whispered that last line, and she started coming as soon as the last word was out of her. He felt spasms wrenching through her. She squeezed around his shaft and clamped down against his head, like she was trying to force him out of her. The solid nub of her clit pulsed against him. She cried out again, high-pitched, sounding like she was in pain. She twisted her breast. And she bore down harder than ever before on his stomach.

It hurt, and it also felt good. He couldn't tell if the pleasure was so intense it was turning into pain or if the pain was at that point where it was turning into pleasure.

He didn't come inside Ruby. In all the times they'd fucked (never made love, Sam was very firm about that in his head - just fucked), they'd never had simultaneous orgasms. When she was finished, Sam let go of her thighs. She lifted herself slowly off of him, then sat down next to him on the bed. She wrapped one hand around his cock and put the other on his belly.

She began to jerk off one, using her own juices as lube, and rub the other, really pressing hard on it. Sam groaned, bringing his hands up and tangling his fingers in his hair as he squeezed his eyes shut. He pulled, the constellation of pain that lit up on his scalp running together with the pressure in his middle and the pleasure in his dick and balls. He started to buck as it all crested, keeping the motion small so as not to shake his stomach around too much.

His climax was like every one that he had with Ruby: raw-feeling, so deep it brushed up against pain, and totally exhausting. Hollowly satisfying. This one was different - different from all the orgasms he'd had before Ruby, too - in that he felt it in his stomach, though. Not just the bottom, either, near his balls. The whole thing. His finish shivered through the blood that filled him.

Come bubbled out of him in a hot, thick squirt. It must've gotten all over Ruby's hand; when she let go of him and laid down next to him, he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her, and she was licking his semen off her fingers. He was going flaccid much slower than normal, and he wondered if the blood was going to affect his refractory period at all. It'd already made him insanely horny once.

"D'you still wish I was Dean?" Ruby whispered to him. He couldn't see her other hand, but the wet sucking sounds coming from below her waist gave him a pretty good idea what she was doing with it. "Even right now?"

Sam didn't answer. Just closed his eyes again and rolled away from her, his belly coming to rest heavily on the mattress.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my editors sweetyaoi, TookMeASecond, and malphigus!

Quitting was always a bitch.

Sam knew; he had a lot of experience with it. There'd been the cigarettes he'd thought it'd be a good idea to try in middle school. He'd only made it through less than half a pack before the coughing, nausea, and guilt had made him toss the rest before Dean or Dad found out, but that must have been enough for the nicotine to kick in, because he'd had cravings for weeks afterwards.

There'd been hunting. When he'd first left the life and gone to Stanford, it'd been hard to leave all his old habits behind. Palo Alto was pretty monster-light. Everything he'd mistaken for inhuman behavior could be chalked up to drugs, stress, or personal quirks.

There'd been college itself, ironically enough. Being adjusted to school made hunting just as difficult as being adjusted for hunting had made school, in the beginning. It took him months to stop feeling confused and anxious.

And there'd been Dean. Brother, lover, best friend. If the way Sam had felt after he'd died hadn't been withdrawal, he didn't know what was.

Demon blood, though, was by far the worst out of all of them.

He guessed he should count his blessings, since it hadn't even been as bad as it could've. He'd been unintentionally weaning himself off the stuff in the weeks leading up to Dean coming back.

That didn't mean, though, that he didn't have to deal with cravings that wracked his body with cramps, headaches, and low-grade fevers. It wasn't so bad he couldn't grin and bear it and keep on functioning, but it sucked anyway.

Most dangerously, his telekinesis went haywire. It latched onto tiny objects around him, making them subtly buzz and rattle. Silverware, cell phones, car keys. It came and went, and never lasted long. It was like a facial tic: Sam could feel himself doing it, but couldn't shut it down.

At least Dean didn't notice any of it. He seemed plenty preoccupied with his own issues. The only pain worse than that of Sam's withdrawal from the blood was from not being able to help his brother. He and Dean had coached each other through rough patches before, but months spent in Hell was a level of "rough" so far above Sam's previous experiences that it nearly paralyzed him.

He hated that Dean wouldn't talk to him. He hated that all the other stupid bullshit in his life was pulling his attention away from Dean when he knew it should've been focused fully on him. And most of all, he hated himself for what he'd done. How he'd let him down.

He knew it'd been the right thing. It felt like a betrayal anyway, though.

That was part of the reason it'd been so easy to decide to quit when Dean had showed up in the doorway of Sam and Ruby's hotel room. Ruby was pissed, of course, but it wasn't really about her. Sam regretted it, but only until his withdrawal symptoms eased. Then he was able to believe he'd made a good decision.

Things were different now than they'd been when Dean first came back, though, which was what he told Ruby when he finally sucked it up and called her.

"Dean can't know about this, though," he stressed multiple times during their conversation.

"Right," Ruby said. "Couldn't possibly tarnish big bro's vision of you as a demon-fucking, failed Antichrist figure by letting him know you came crawling back to me to beg for more of what Azazel dripped into your mouth as a baby. Which I knew you were going to, by the way. You've only hurt yourself by holding out so long." A bitter, humorless chuckle came through the line as Sam ground his teeth. "Well, yourself and the entire world."

She actually didn't gloat as much as he'd been expecting, so that was a pleasant surprise.

He couldn't help her track down the demon he was going to use because Dean would get suspicious, so she was on her own for that. Sam hoped that she'd be there with the demon, waiting. They had a system, a simple one: she met his needs. When he drank demon blood, he had other needs, and she seemed fascinated rather than disgusted by the state he reached with a gallon and a half of liquid inside him.

Plus, even though he was ashamed to admit it, she was more responsive to him than Dean was lately. These days, Sam could miss his brother with a raw and festering ache even when they were sleeping in the same room.

Not the same bed. Not anymore. That was one of the ways Dean had withdrawn, and Sam was forcing himself to respect his boundaries, even if that felt like it was killing him.

He didn't feel good about what he was doing in the few days after calling Ruby. But at least he was doing something.

Only a day after they'd spoken, Ruby texted Sam an address and a room number. It was a motel across town, a place even cheaper and sleazier than the one he was in right now. This was a small town, so he could probably walk there in about half an hour. Ruby had told him to ask for a key for room 33A, under the name Gary Ridgway.

There were many parts of himself Sam regretted sharing with Ruby. In the long run, his serial killer hobby probably wasn't a big deal, but she'd really latched onto it.

The sun was starting to set as he left, the light slanting and golden. He had to pass the bar, taking the quickest route. He automatically glanced at it, but of course he couldn't see anyone, let alone Dean, through the small windows. The light was all wrong.

The place was very clearly by-the-hour, just as Sam had thought when he and Dean had driven past it on their way into town. When he opened the room, he was surprised for two reasons: first of all, there were two demons, bound and gagged in the middle of a devil's trap the tarp underneath them partially obscured, and second of all, Ruby wasn't there. He pushed past his disappointment. It wasn't like he needed her here.

He usually only had one demon at a time. Any more than that took him out of commission completely, and for a long time. Hours.

It wasn't like he really had a choice, though, he reasoned as he closed and locked the door behind him. A living demon would be much harder to deal with than a dead body.

The logistics of the cleanup slipped easily out of Sam's mind as he crossed the room towards the demons. A slight frisson rolled over the surface of his skin when he stepped into the devil's trap, something he'd gotten used to right after drinking from a demon. Salt and iron felt weird, too. It wasn't like he got stuck, but his body definitely reacted.

It was easier not to think about what that meant.

Both demons leaned away from him as he approached, straining against their bonds. Sam chose a demon at random and took his usual position, straddling its lap. Her lap; the vessel was female. He took a handful of the coppery hair and jerked her head roughly to the side to expose her throat. The vessel's pulse jumped in it, and she blinked rapidly, clearly terrified. Saliva flooded Sam's mouth in anticipation.

Even though his human teeth were much blunter than those of, say, a vampire or a werewolf, or anything else that'd evolved to rip open flesh with their mouths, they'd still do the trick. So he went ahead and bit straight into the demon's neck, having learned very quickly how to hit the jugular on his first try.

The bitter, floral taste of perfume hit his tongue very first, as well as the powdery texture of makeup. As soon as the skin broke, though, they were both washed away by the overpowering flavor of blood. Salt, iron, sulfur. The smell flooded his sinuses, and he felt his eyelids fluttering. The demon was struggling, but he hardly noticed.

The gush of blood from her was so strong that it filled his mouth almost instantly. A few drops leaked out the corners, which of course Sam regretted. He had to gulp rapidly to keep up with the rate of blood flow.

His clothes were starting to get very uncomfortable, so he dropped his hands - one still in the demon's hair, the other on her shoulder - to his waist, still drinking aggressively as he did so. It was such a relief to loosen everything up. His rapidly-filling belly swelled free, the contents sloshing, and the semi he was sporting pressed into the underside through the fabric of his boxers.

It didn't take Sam more than twenty minutes to suck the first demon completely dry, and he didn't take his mouth off her neck once. He slowly pulled away from her to reveal the two ragged, bloodless crescents of his bite. The other demon was throwing himself furiously against his bonds, and had been probably the entire time Sam was drinking, but of course they hadn't loosened in the slightest.

The edge had maybe been taken off Sam's craving, but he wanted more, just like he always did. His thirst grew the more he drank.

He took a second to breathe, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. It came away smeared with red, and he lapped at that, not wanting to waste a single drop, as he put his other hand on his stomach. He cupped the swell off it and felt the way it was gurgling, like it was happy to be filled to the brim with demon blood again. Finishing cleaning off his hand, he burped softly. He made no effort to stifle it. He was basically alone here; what was the point?

Sam slowly pushed himself off the demon and to his feet. He kept a hand on his belly the entire time to steady himself. He'd gotten used to moving when he was this full, but by now, it'd been a while since he'd done it.

The other demon growled loudly in the back of his throat as Sam came around the chairs to look at him. Experimentally, he flung out a hand, fingers spread and palm facing the demon. With an entire human body's worth of blood inside him, it was almost no effort at all to pin the thing in place.

When Sam's telekinesis was working properly, it felt like he had a hundred or so extra hands, reaching inside a demon's vessel and grabbing the black smoke like it was a solid object. To exorcise it, all he needed to do was pull. He wasn't about to do that now, of course.

He held the demon still as he settled himself awkwardly on his legs. He couldn't get as close as he wanted because his stomach got in the way.

"This is gonna be way easier for both of us if you just relax," Sam murmured to the demon, leaning in so that his mouth was close to his ear. And his throat. With a slight movement of his hand, he made his head snap to the side.

He bit. Hot blood fountained down his throat, right into his stomach, inflating it even more than the first demon already had. Ruby had been right: he always stretched, and he never threw up or burst.

Sam eventually had to stand up to make room for his overfilled gut, which was wedged uncomfortably between his body and the demon's. It popped free of his T-shirt, pulled down by its own weight, and hung below him, swaying with his every movement. Sloshing, gurgling, steadily growing. He was awkwardly bent over to keep drinking from the demon. His back hurt and his legs trembled under his own increasing weight.

None of that mattered to him, though. In fact, he barely noticed. His focus was entirely on the blood he was drinking and his own body. He put a hand on his stomach and pressed lightly, twitching at the pleasure it sent cascading down to his cock. He ran his hand along the curve until he reached his groin, pulling his dick free of his boxers and taking hold of it. He was rock-hard, throbbing and dripping, and he was almost positive that Ruby wasn't going to show up at this point. Might as well take care of the problem himself.

He was so engrossed in drinking and jerking off, even as the flow of blood began to ebb, that he didn't hear it when tools began to  _clink_  around in the lock of the door behind him. Or when the door opened.

"Oh, what the  _fuck_."

He definitely heard that, though. He started with shock, and jerked his hand off of himself, like being caught masturbating was somehow worse than being caught drinking blood. He pulled his mouth off the demon's neck, blood spilling from between his lips before he swallowed and from the wound, splattering all over both their clothes. Breathing hard, hair in his face, he glanced towards the doorway.

Sam knew it was Dean even before he looked. The sun must have just set, because the sky was a blazing orange that was painful to look at, framing him as a black silhouette in the entrance. Sam could just barely make out his face, but it was enough to see the abject shock that was quickly morphing into horror, anger, and disgust.

Sam very slowly straightened up, so aware of his bloated stomach and his erection that it nearly hurt. The skin on his belly ached hotly all of a sudden, and he wasn't sure if it was because he hadn't been forced to stretch like this in months or because he was blushing.

He felt a burp coming and clapped a hand to his wet, red mouth to keep it quiet, but it turned out to be a hiccup that sounded absurdly loud and high-pitched in the silence.

"They're demons," Sam said, dropping his hand.

"Oh, you think that makes it better?" Dean demanded, taking a step into the room and slamming the door behind him so forcefully the windows, all blocked by heavy curtains, rattled in their frames.

"I-I mean - "

"You're in a sketchy motel room," Dean started, sounding like he was just barely keeping himself from yelling at the top of his lungs, "with two dead bodies - demons, apparently - whose blood you clearly just shotgunned." He waved a hand at Sam's belly. Sam felt an utterly useless urge to try and hide it with his hands. "Plus you're getting off on it. What the..." Dean trailed off, shaking his head and throwing his hands up in the air, seemingly so upset he was at a loss for words. "What the  _hell_ 're you  _doing_ , man? D'you have any idea how bad this looks?"

"Why're you here?" Sam asked instead of answering.

"Because I followed you," Dean replied. "Obviously. Saw you walking past the bar, went back to the room, found your note, and decided to see if you needed backup."

"Are you sure it wasn't just that you didn't trust me?" Sam asked, an edge creeping into his voice.

"Oh, right, yeah," Dean said, voice heavy with sarcasm. "I owe you an apology, don't I? For being suspicious when you were doing something so  _innocent_ and  _harmless_." He gestured to the bodies. Body, at least. The male demon might still be alive, albeit severely weakened. Sam could see a sluggish pulse in the gaping hole he'd ripped in his throat as blood oozed out of it, so the vessel's heart was probably still beating. The fear of that blood going to waste nearly overpowered his humiliation and shame. He almost didn't hear it when Dean spoke again. "Wait a minute. Is this where those new powers of yours came from? Throwing demons up against walls, exorcising 'em with your mind?"

Sam didn't answer. Dean began to pace, agitated, dragging his hands through his hair so hard his fingers came out with dirty-blonde strands wound around them.

"That's where they came from originally," Dean said. Sam wasn't sure if he was talking to him or thinking out loud, so he just stayed quiet. "Azazel. When you were a baby. And, I mean - why wouldn't you wanna do that again? It only fucked up our entire lives. Forever."

"This is different," Sam said stonily. His legs and back hurt from supporting the considerable weight of his engorged belly, and he wanted to sit down. He didn't dare move, though.

"Yeah? How?" Dean demanded, then stopped. "Oh, son of a bitch. This is all Ruby, isn't it?" He looked at Sam, anger visibly growing. "She's the one who talked you into this. Black-eyed skank, knew I should've ganked her ass when I had the chance. Where is she? Huh?" He crossed to the bathroom and all but kicked the door open. Sam winced as he heard plaster crunch. "The two of you gonna screw once you're done with your vampire impression? If she can even find your dick under all that." He looked pointedly at Sam's stomach when he came out of the bathroom.

"She's not here," Sam said, "and this is all me. I - I stopped. When you came back. I thought I could do it without the blood. Or we could find a different way. But I couldn't, and we didn't, and this is how we're gonna stop Lilith. It's the only option." He emphasized, "We're running out of time. And this isn't just you and me we're talking about here, the whole  _world's_ at stake. I held out as long as I could, but I called Ruby and I came here. I need to do this."

_"This,"_ Dean said, stalking towards him and waving his hands at the entire scene, "is wrong. I can tell. It's perverse - it's done things to you."

"It's made me stronger," Sam agreed. "Powerful enough to take down Lilith." When Dean shook his head and whirled away from him in disgust, exasperation, or both, Sam said, "You don't have to like it. You don't have to be here. You don't even - " It hurt to even think this, so it was agony saying it. " - have to wait for me. I mean, you don't want to, do you? You've wanted away from me ever since you got back. You won't touch me. You won't let me touch you. You've as much as said you feel like I'm not me anymore. Not your brother." He bared teeth he knew would be webbed with blood in a grimace of painful defiance. "It's not about you, though, Dean. This is way bigger than us. And guess what? This is all me. Just like I said."

Dean's profile was to him, and his eyes were fixed on nothing. Sam watched his jaw tighten, and his fists. Tendons stood out and joints turned white.

"If you wanna hurt me," Sam said, "I won't blame you. It's kinda what you're good at, after all." Had he really just said that? Yes, and it'd felt good. He was fully exposed in front of Dean, in all of his revolting, twisted, freakish glory, and he wanted to hurt him as badly as he could for making him feel that way. "But I really think you should go. Unless you want to watch me finish up."

He got back into position, gingerly bent down in an effort to control the shifting of his stomach, and put his mouth on the demon's throat again. A lot of blood had run down his neck and soaked into his clothes and even pattered onto the tarp while Sam was talking to Dean, which just sucked, but there was at least some left. He tongued at the wound, and blood slowly filled his mouth.

Of course his eyes closed again, so he didn't see Dean move. Or even hear him. But, all of a sudden, the back of his shirt was grabbed and he was yanked off the demon. His eyes flew open and he started to make a gurgling cry through his mouthful of blood, but Dean clapped a hand over his lips before he could get too much out. A lot of blood spurted through Dean's fingers and ran down Sam's chin, and he swallowed the rest, but only with difficulty. Some went up his nose, which hurt like a bitch. He was sure that his eyes were bugging out with shock and fear as Dean dragged him across the room.

"Think you've had more than enough," Dean growled, before practically throwing him onto the bed. Sam yelped as his sensitive belly took the brunt of the impact, then whimpered in pain and folded protectively around it.

"What the f - " he started, wheezing, but cut himself off with a cry and an involuntary burp when Dean jabbed him in the belly with a couple fingers. It might've felt good if it hadn't been so unexpected.

"You stay there." Dean turned away from him and headed towards the bathroom. Sam couldn't see into it from this angle, but he could hear him banging around in there, which couldn't possibly be good.

Why the hell did he even care so much? Why couldn't he just leave? Sam knew that was what he'd wanted since he'd seen what he could do. Maybe even since he'd found out what Azazel had done to him as a baby, and started thinking of him as something less than human.

Grunting with the effort, Sam rolled over onto all fours and moved towards the edge of the bed as quickly and quietly as he could. He usually didn't move around all that much when he was like this, so sweat was beading on his brow. He had no idea where he was going to go in his current condition, but he knew he needed to get out of here.

Before he could even get off the bed, though, there was a particularly loud noise in the bathroom - like something being ripped off the wall - and Dean came out carrying the whole goddamn mirror. He set it down on the floor, leaning it up against the legs of the male demon.

"Look at yourself," Dean ordered. Sam blinked up at him. Between the blood-high and the adrenaline rush, he legitimately wasn't processing the command, but Dean mistook his confusion for defiance. His face twisted with rage. Sam flinched when Dean moved forward and grabbed for him, but he got a solid handful of his hair anyway. His scalp ached and his neck protested as Dean hauled his head into an awkward position, forcing him to stare at the mirror. "I  _said_ , look at yourself!"

Swallowing, Sam did. He was reflected fully. On all fours, eyes glassy and dark, the lower half of his face and his shirt covered in blood, belly so distended there was only about six inches between it and the mattress below him, the blushing head of his erect cock just barely visible behind it. A full-body shudder rocked him, the appalled arousal he'd slowly grown used to.

He didn't need Dean to force him to look at himself. He knew exactly how awful he looked.

"D'you see what you look like?" Dean demanded. "An animal, a - a monster." Sam swallowed. That was a word that'd bounced around his own head a lot recently, but Dean using it cut him deep. "D'you see what you've done to yourself?" He leaned forward and, with his free hand, grabbed at Sam's stomach, digging his fingers into the taut skin and making the blood inside slosh. "Look at this! How the hell does this even happen?"

Having his sensitive belly squeezed triggered a confusing but familiar flash of pain and pleasure, and Sam cried out. In the mirror, a faint pink blush showed up along his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. Even without that, he was sure Dean could hear the perverse enjoyment in the sound he'd just made.

"D'you  _like_ that, you freak?" Dean asked him incredulously, digging his fingers in harder and jiggling his stomach. At the last word, Sam squeezed his eyes shut. He would've bowed his head, but Dean was still holding onto his hair. "You're into this, aren't you?" He let go of his belly, but only so he could smack it. Sam whimpered.

"S-stop," he pleaded, fully aware how pathetic begging made him sound but unable to think of anything else he could do.

"You want me to stop?" Dean repeated. "Like how I asked you to stop experimenting with your damn powers, and fucking around with Ruby?" He twisted his hand in Sam's hair, and it fucking hurt. "Speaking of Ruby, is this the kinda sick shit that gets a demon going? She get all hot and bothered when you're like this - so goddamn full of bitch blood you can't hardly walk?"

"Lemme go!" Sam tugged, futilely, against Dean's hand, angry all of a sudden. He'd been wondering when that side effect of the demon blood was going to kick in. "At least it's easier to get her interested in me than it is  _you_! You won't even look at me! Is it because I'm a freak? Do I really disgust you that much? Or did something just break in you in Hell that you don't care enough to fix?"

Dean yanked his head up further, and Sam opened his eyes to see him staring down at him. "So you need someone fucking you constantly? Is that what this whole thing is about? You're a whore and you'll do whatever Ruby asks just to get her to do you?" With his other hand, he unexpectedly grabbed Sam's erect cock, and Sam gasped. "Sure looks like you wanna be fucked right now."

Sam laughed, then swallowed a burp. "You sure you could stomach fucking me?" He glared up at Dean, squeezing fistfuls of the cheap comforter underneath him. "I don't care what you think. I know I'm doing the right thing, and I don't care what it does to me. I already told you that you can leave. I don't need you." He smiled, humorlessly. "Of course, if you wanna fuck me before you go, I wouldn't complain. Since I'm a whore and all...if you can even get it up."

"You want me to fuck you so bad, tubby? Fine." Dean let go of Sam's hair, then wiped his hand roughly across his mouth, which was still wet with blood. Sam heard him spit into it as he used his other hand to undo the button and zipper of his jeans, and then he was climbing onto the bed. Sam took the opportunity to try and move again, but he hadn't even lifted one hand before Dean grabbed the back of his pants and yanked them down, boxers and all.

When he did that, Sam's phone tumbled out of his pocket and onto the bed. He'd completely forgotten about it. While Dean was in the bathroom pulling the mirror off the wall, he could've been calling or texting Ruby for help.

He was so freaking stupid.

Speaking of the mirror, he could see Dean behind him, pulling himself out. Sam stared. What could've possibly turned him on?

Dean grabbed Sam's belly with one hand. With the other, the one full of spit and demon blood, he began working himself out to his full length, growling under his breath. His short fingernails dug painfully into Sam's skin. He was going to fuck him. For the first time since he'd come back from Hell. Sam had never fully understood the term "hate-sex" until this exact moment, but that was what was going to happen, and he'd basically dared Dean to give it to him. And then to get out of his life.

How had they even gotten to this point?

Sam was pulled out of his thoughts by Dean's hand tightening aggressively on him, like he was about to slam in. That was when it occurred to Sam that it'd been months since he'd had sex with Dean, the most Ruby had ever done with his entrance was stick a finger or two up there during a blowjob, he'd had no prep whatsoever, and Dean was using saliva and blood rather than lube. Which meant that this was going to hurt. A lot.

And it did, as Dean slammed home. Sam screamed, so loud that the people on the other side of the thin walls all around them had to have heard him, but his place would be used to noises like that. At least his revelation coming as late as it had meant that he hadn't had time to tense up, so it wasn't as bad as it could've been.

"Shut up," Dean growled, and his other hand came down in Sam's hair again, forcing his head to the mattress. He could smell the blood on it, mixed with sweat and precome, and even right now, his mouth watered with need. "Can't tell me you don't like it rough after being Ruby's bitch for the last - what? Six months?" He pulled back, grunting as Sam's body automatically clenched around him, and Sam groaned at the burn. "Plus, now you've got demon blood in both ends. That oughta help you keep it up."

The hand he had on Sam's hair moved back to his cock, squeezing it almost painfully hard as he kept rocking his hips. Bit by bit, Sam loosened, and his movements got easier, faster, harder. Sam wasn't sure if he was doing it on purpose (probably not), but his angle was perfect, head striking Sam's prostate solidly on every single stroke before he slid deeper. The stimulation had tiny lightning bolts darting into the dick Dean was strangling, his belly, all the way up to his head. His eyes closed halfway and his mouth fell open.

Sam was not in a comfortable position. Everything inside of him had shifted downward, pressing painfully against his esophagus, and a steady stream of burps and hiccups poured out of him as Dean pounded him, along with all the moans and whimpers. He kept expecting blood to come up - or down, rather - burning with stomach acid, but it didn't. Ruby's wisdom struck again.

In the mirror, Sam could see Dean fucking him from behind. Every thrust made his gut jiggle and wobble. Dean was still holding onto it with one hand, squeezing and almost kneading, and that felt good. Everything was starting to feel good. Despite the rough start, Sam could say for certain that this was better than anything he'd ever had with Ruby.

"God, look at you." Dean's voice was rough and a little breathless. "Look at your face. You look like a goddamn blow-up doll." He let go of Sam's belly so he could smack it again, harder this time. Sam grunted. He immediately grabbed back on when he was finished, fingers sinking in. "Does this stuff just turn you into a total slut, or what?"

"It's a - a side effect," Sam huffed out, before burping again. He squeezed his eyes shut afterwards, the humiliation of being like this in front of Dean still going strong.

"You're like a sex toy." Dean dug his thumb into Sam's flank. "You're definitely blown up, huh? Inflated. And I'd imagine you're not good for much else when you're like this."

"So  _use me_ ," Sam growled, grinding back against Dean and making his belly slosh heavily. "Harder. You - you like seeing me like this, don't you? I'm a freak. Just like you always knew I was."

"Don't try to pretend you're normal when you're swollen up to the size of a freaking blimp with demon blood." Dean obeyed Sam and started screwing him harder. And actually jerking him off instead of just squeezing his cock. "You don't - care about anybody, do you? Not me. Def-definitely not yourself. It's all about the greater good. Doesn't matter how we end up."

"L-like - " Sam sucked in a sharp breath as Dean's hand suddenly moved off his cock and to his balls, which he squeezed and tugged on. Like everything else he'd done tonight, it hurt and felt good in near-equal measures. "Like you're one to talk. Dean, you basically killed yourself to - to save me, and you left me. All alone. And now you're back, but I swear you wish you weren't, and you -  _definitely_ wish you weren't with me."

"You don't need me!" Dean was yelling now, and what little rhythm there'd been to his thrusts was completely gone. His movements were wild, forcing Sam harder and harder against the bed. "You don't want me! You just said so, and you had  _Ruby_. Did you even want me back?"

"Of course I did!"

"You've been feeling guilty this whole - goddamn - time," Dean snarled. Sam recognized the timbre of his voice; he was about to come. "Or - a sense of duty, or something. But now the truth's coming out, and you know what? I don't - c-care. I feel like I don't even know you, between Ruby, and all the lying, and - and  _this_." He shook Sam's belly where he was holding onto it, hard. "Want me gone? I'll go."

"I'm sorry!" It burst out of Sam, unintended, as Dean's hand latched back onto his dick and his own orgasm began to build. "P-please don't leave, I ca - can't lose you again."

"You're sorry?" Dean didn't sound incredulous, more like he was confirming something. He grunted behind Sam. "I'm - sorry, too."

Then he was coming, shouting and swearing, and Sam heard his name over and over again. He humped Dean's hand frantically in an effort to get himself over the edge as his brother's hot load filled him, his head jabbing against the underside of his own stomach. It wasn't long before he was painting it with wide splatters of his seed, an abstract pattern of white against a tan canvas.

Dean pulled out of him while Sam was finishing up the dregs of his climax, and he twitched. His hole felt loose and used and, honestly, so did the rest of him. He immediately collapsed as soon as Dean let go of him, legs splaying as his belly, which felt like a jelly-filled cushion under him, bulged out on either side of his body. That position was agonizing, though, so it wasn't long before he forced himself back up and crawled slowly over to Dean, who was sitting on the opposite side of the bed. He hadn't bothered cleaning himself up, so his crotch was covered in blood and come. He had a little bit of a thousand-yard stare look to him, so Sam opened his mouth to tentatively ask him if he was okay. Dean looked at him and spoke before he could, though.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked.

"No," Sam lied. Sitting would be near-impossible for the next day or two, and he wouldn't be surprised if Dean had bruised his stomach. It'd hopefully been worth it, though. Leaving his pants down around his knees for the moment, Sam laid down half on his side and half on his chest next to Dean, bell spreading across the mattress. He folded his arms then, after a second of hesitation, rested his head against Dean's thigh. When Dean put his fingers in his hair, it felt almost as good as the orgasm had.

"That was my first time since I got back," Dean commented almost casually. "I'm glad it was with you."

"I missed you," Sam said.

"I missed you, too." Dean sighed. "I…Hell was…" He paused. "It was like there was a wall between me and you. Or maybe a window. Like, I could see you, but I couldn't talk to you or touch you even if I wanted to. And I was okay with that for a long time. But I shouldn't've been. I think…I really fucking  _hope_ I'm past all that now." He took a deep breath. "Okay. Listen. We're gonna work this out, all right? Both of us. Together. We'll kill Lilith, we'll deal with the angels."

"We'll fix you," Sam mumbled, closing his eyes.

"And you," Dean said. He pulled his hand out of Sam's bloody, sweaty hair and tapped his stomach with two fingers. "You don't have to do this to yourself anymore. You're gonna quit, okay? We'll find another way to kill Lilith."

"Okay," Sam said, uncertain but willing, right now, to try.

"And if we do this," Dean continued, "we gotta be straight with each other for, like, the first time in our lives. That goes for both of us. No more lying, no more secrets. No more Ruby."

"Okay," Sam repeated. That wasn't a hard promise to make. Being with Dean again, even while they were both furious and hurting, had made everything that he and Ruby were lacking glaringly obvious.

"So how long does it usually take this to go away?" Dean tapped his belly again.

"Few hours, usually," Sam mumbled drowsily.

"All right, then..." Dean drew in a breath. "Guess you can go ahead and sleep it off while I clean up your mess. But it better be the last time I gotta do this." He stood, and Sam immediately missed his warmth.

"Uh huh."

There was a long pause, then, as Sam made himself as comfortable as he could and listened to Dean move around the bed towards the corpses, Dean quietly said, "I love you."

"I love you, too."

"...bitch."

"Jerk."


End file.
